


Take Me from the Pain

by thatcrazywriterley



Series: Take Me Series [5]
Category: AEW, Adam Page-fandom, All Elite Wrestling, Being The Elite (Web Series)
Genre: AKA Hunter Horse Helmsley, Angst, F/M, Grief, for stoney, loss of a pet/animal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:21:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23423095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatcrazywriterley/pseuds/thatcrazywriterley
Summary: When his beloved horse passes away, Adam takes it hard. Emily does her best to help him through.
Relationships: Adam Page/Emily King, Adam Page/OFC, Adam Page/Original Female Character, Hangman Adam Page/OFC, Hangman Page/OFC
Series: Take Me Series [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670956
Kudos: 3





	Take Me from the Pain

_(GIF owned by cowboysht on Tumblr)_

I’d brought out blankets and wrapped him in them. I’d brought out a thermos of soup and another of coffee. I tried my best to make him comfortable even as I knew his heart was breaking. My own heart felt fragile at the pain he was suffering.

Adam sat against the wall on a small pile of hay, a blanket draped around his shoulders, and Stoney’s head in his lap. The beautiful chestnut was on his side, his dark eyes half closed, his body rising and falling in spasms as he struggled to breathe. His eyes rolled with fear. He kicked feebly.

Tears burned my eyes as Adam stroked one hand down Stoney’s neck while the other rested on the horse’s nose. “It’s okay, big guy,” he murmured softly. I could see the pain in his eyes as he watched his beloved horse slowly slip away. “You’re not alone.”

I sank down on my knees in the hay. Stoney whickered softly, the noise coming out with a wet sort of wheeze. I settled my hand on Adam’s and ran my other along the horse’s ears. I sniffled when I saw Adam’s blue-green eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“Is there anything we can do?” I asked him softly

Adam looked up and I saw for the first time how blotchy and red his face was. “No, nothin’ I’m willin’ to do anyway.” His voice was weak and feeble.

God, I hated how broken he seemed. I wished more than anything that I could take it away. That I could fix it.

“Do you want me to—”

He shook his head firmly. “He’s almost gone. It won’t be long.”

I nodded and settled in beside him. I let my head fall onto his shoulder even as I kept my hand on top of his hoping that he would know that I was there for him. I held him and I cried with him as Stoney heaved a few more breaths and went still.

It seemed to take a moment for Adam to process that Stoney was no longer moving. Everything happened in slow motion as he collapsed against the horse’s neck, sobbing with heartbreak. I rubbed his back, feeling helpless against the roaring tide of his grief. My mind cast out for something to say even though I knew that nothing would make this moment any easier for him.

Something clicked into place in my thoughts as I started making a list of things to do. I knew that Adam wouldn’t be in the right mind to start thinking about what needed to be done for Stoney. He already seemed to be falling apart at the seams. No, I would take care of things. I made a mental note to call the local hardware place to rent a backhoe and hire somebody to bring it down to dig a grave. I’d figure out a place for him. I wondered if we had any wood and paint to make a marker. I’d clean out his stall when everything was over.

The sun was coming up over the trees when Adam moved again. He wriggled his way out from beneath Stoney’s head and gently placed it on the pile of hay. When he got to his feet he wobbled, whether from exhaustion or heartbreak I didn’t know.

I tucked my arm around his waist to support him. For a moment, he stood there staring at nothing. Then he turned and snatched me against him. His arms wrapped tight around me as he hid his face in my neck and cried. I hated the way his body shook and trembled with his sobs and how I could feel his tears seeping into my shirt. I hated how he was shattering inside. I squeezed him as hard as I could, pouring every ounce of love I had for him into the embrace.

“You need to sleep, Adam,” I started, soothing my hands up and down his back. “Let’s go inside. Just for a while.”

He sobbed harder even as he let me disentangle his arms and guide him out of the stall. He kept one arm tight around my shoulders as if he was afraid that I was going to leave him. “I need to get started diggin’,” he moaned miserably.

“Shh,” I soothed. “It’ll take you a week to do it by hand. I’ll call Roberts Brothers and see if one of them can haul that backhoe out here. Just tell me where.”

His boots dragged on the steps as he climbed up the side porch. The screen door smacked loudly as it swung closed behind us. He tried to toe off his boots, but nearly fell over in the process. I took him by the hand and pulled him gently into the living room. It didn’t matter that he was covered in hay or that he smelled like the barn. All that mattered was that he needed rest.

Adam sank down onto the sofa with his arm over his eyes. I knelt and pulled off his boots, sitting them by the coffee table. “Rest a bit. Please.”

I turned to find my phone, but he caught me by the hand before I could go too far. The smile on his face was one of sadness and desperation. “Em…” I leaned down and kissed his knuckles. “By the big oak. That’s where he should go.”

***

The sky was going pink and orange as we stood beneath the branches of the oak tree in the field. Johnny Roberts had driven his backhoe down and spent a good part of the morning digging out a hole for us to bury Stoney. He’d even brought his wench and bucket arm to carry the horse from the barn to the grave. There was quicklime in his truck, too. I let him do as much as he could before I brought Adam out of the house.

The freshly turned earth made the air smell sweet. Adam looked haggard and pale as he stood beside the mound of dirt that covered Stoney’s body. I stood beside him, my arm curled around his waist and my head on his chest. There was nothing I could say to make it better. I didn’t have the words to soothe the hurt that he was feeling in that moment. I might never have them, but I could hold him and tell him that I loved him. That would have to be enough.

We sat out beneath the oak until the stars began popping out into the velvety black sky. Adam sat looking up through the branches of the tree, his feet crossed at the ankles in front of him, his fingers curled around mine in a vice-like grip. I was exhausted beyond measure. It’d been more than twenty-four hours since I’d last slept. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had anything to eat.

Adam gave my fingers a squeeze and stood up, pulling me to my feet. He drew me close and hugged me tightly, burying his face in my hair. I heard the sound of him breathing deeply. “Thank you, Em.”

I settled my palms on the curves of his ribs. “It’s what I’m here for, Adam. You need me. I wish I could make it easier, that I could take the pain away.”

He leaned back and tucked my hair behind my ear, letting his palm rest against my cheek. “You’re here. That makes it easier.”

We stood breathing the crisp night air for a moment more before he curled his palm around mine and lead me off through the field back toward the house. My stomach growled as we walked. “Go on in the house, Em. Take a hot shower and get in the bed. I’ll bring up something to eat.”

“You don’t have to…”

He drew my hand to his mouth and kissed the back. “I want to. I _need_ to. Let me take care of you for a minute.”

***

I tied my damp hair back into a ponytail and climbed into the bed. The scent of laundry soap and Adam’s bodywash fluffed out of the fabric. I sighed as I settled in, breathing in the soothing scent of him. Just as my mind started drifting off, our bedroom door opened. Adam seemed to have taken a shower as well—probably in the downstairs bathroom—and dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, his damp hair in a knot. He balanced a wooden tray on his hand. Steam curled up from two bowls.

He sat the tray on my bedside table and sat on the edge of the mattress. “I’m not that great a cook, Em. But everybody likes tomato soup and grilled cheese, right?”

I smiled and nodded, glad to see his lips tip up a little. “It’s my favorite.”

“You’re a bad liar,” he replied as he handed me a bowl of soup and settled another plate bearing a triangle cut grilled cheese on the bed beside me. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Don’t you dare. There’s nothing for you to make up anyway.”

***

“Adam?” I called out, dropping my keys on the counter by the side door as I toed off my Mary Janes. I put my work bag on the kitchen table and dug through it for a manilla envelope. It was a Friday, so I knew he’d be home. But maybe he was out in the field with Stoney. He’d spent a lot of time out there in the last week.

I called his name again as I moved through the house. His sleepy voice called from the bedroom. A moment later he came down the stairs tugging a t-shirt over his head. “Hey, Em.”

“Hey, cowboy,” I said affectionately, holding the envelope out in front of me. “I’ve got a present for you.”

His blond brows shot up as he took it from my grasp. He leaned over and kissed me by on the temple before crossing into the living room and plopping down on the sofa. I followed behind him, curling up next to him with my feet tucked underneath me.

I watched Adam as he released the clasp on the envelope and pulled out the pile of papers. His blue eyes went glassy with tears. One by one, he went through the carefully drawn pictures and cards—each one featuring a five-year old’s rendition of a brown horse.

“We practiced letters today. That’s why some of them have the word written a lot on them.” I’d gone in to work that morning and decided that we would have morning art and practice our letters. They had special practice with S-T-O-N-E-Y. I dug my phone out of my pocket. “There’s something else.”

I opened the video and put it in his hands before pressing play. Twenty-seven five-year olds stood in a group in front of a white board with a carefully drawn horse and large letters. They looked at the camera and smiled. “Stoney was a good horse,” they all said together, although you could hear my voice prompting them at the beginning. “He was a pretty horse. And he was the best horse in the whole world.”

Adam handed me my phone once the clip was over. He threaded our fingers together and brought them to his lips, kissing each of my knuckles. He took a moment to breathe in, to get himself together.

“When’s the next day for a story time volunteer?” he asked with a small smile. “I’ve got a book or two they might like.”

I smiled, knowing he meant the children’s books he, Cody, Matt, and Nick had written. “There’s a spot open on Thursday.”

He nodded. “How much trouble will I get in if I bring cupcakes, too?”

“As long as you bring some for the teacher, I think you’ll be okay.”


End file.
